Reality Check
by Writer2BPoet
Summary: How does one respond to being told that they are the proud new owners of mutant powers? And how does one come to grips with what they can now do? Ch.4 UP. R&R.
1. Default Chapter

"The Mage" Writer2bPoet  
  
"When Life Changes"  
  
Summary/Author's Notes: Have you ever wondered what being a mutant would be? Ever wonder about those people who aren't actually mutants, but only carriers of the X-Gene? Well, wonder no more. A story about one such carrier who is chosen arbitrarily to become something more.only problem is that no one asked him.  
  
Disclaimer: I created Allen, and a few other ideas, which will be thrown into the mix, but I do not (as much as I hate it) own any of the characters in X-Men: Evolution. Paramount, the WB, and whoever else does. I'm just going to use them anyway. And no worries, I'll try to keep the characters true to their portrayals.  
  
Altos Verdes, California  
  
Allen smiled as his character materialized behind his opponent and threw a barrage of energy blasts at his friend's Avatar. His friend, Paul, spoke through a microphone system at his house, but Allen heard the Avatar's voice on his speakers.  
"That was a cheap shot, Mage," Paul's character's voice, Tiamot, said bitterly. "Even for you."  
"Perhaps," was all Allen (Mage) said in return. "You wanted down and dirty, Tiamot, I'm simply giving you what you wanted."  
"I wanted a fair fight."  
"Well, then," Mage said with a wry smile, "you should have said so."  
The two Avatars continued to battle fiercely over the LAN connection. A little while later both players agreed to a draw of sorts. Allen got Paul on an IM channel.  
"I must admit, I wasn't sure that the program would have worked. But with the exception of a few minor bugs, it's not bad at all."  
"Thanks," typed Paul. "I couldn't have done it without your input though."  
"No prob," responded Allen. Paul was a wiz at computer programming. He had had to borrow from various programs, but he had managed to put together an interactive virtual environment in which the two of them could battle their characters. For years, Allen and Paul had role-played with their characters, the Dark Mage and the fire-god Tiamot. Paul was really big on mythology and legendary figures.  
"Anyway, it's late," typed Paul, "get back to me tomorrow about those corrections you want, I'll see what I can do."  
"Yeah," responded Allen as he looked at the clock. Just past 11 at night. "Yeah," he continued, "have to get to bed myself. Wanna get some stuff ready before school starts."  
"School doesn't start again for another week!" answered Paul. "What could you possibly be working on?"  
"Not much, that's for sure. Just some errands, mostly."  
"Yeah, whatever. Nights." And Paul logged off.  
"Yeah, later," said Allen, as he shut down his computer for the night and got ready for bed. When he sat down on his bed, ready for sleep, he looked around his room. He had one of those feeling of unrealism he had sometimes. Like what was real really wasn't. He shook his head, and convinced himself it was tiredness. "What could ever happen? Life's too boring for anything to actually happen." He lay back on his bed with the light out. Summer was too warm for bed sheets. ...............  
  
He didn't know when he fell asleep; in fact, he hadn't even realized that he had closed his eyes. But the dreams came just the same. People with melted-plastic faces running after him with torches, screaming at him to die, or to go back where he came from. The dream gave him the impression that here he was the strange one, the mutant. He woke up in a sweat, and remembered a news feed he had seen about the "Mutant Phenomena".  
  
He shook his head, tiredly, and went back to sleep. That was when the other dream came. He found himself in a large room, bordering on cavernous. The walls were made of some sort of stone; the floor and the ceiling were made of the same material. The air was humid, almost heavy, and warm enough to make him sweat. Allen was surprised by how real it felt. But the thought faded from mind.  
  
He walked forward into the room, and into a central area where the floor was clear for about thirty feet in every direction. The cleared floor space was rectangular, and interrupted only by a waist high length of stone in the middle of the space. A strange sort of light seemed to glow all around him, but it seemed brightest on and around the stone slab. He approached the slab with no feeling of apprehension or hesitation; he was meant to be here. Exactly in line with the slab, at either end of the clearing stood a singular pillar, larger than others that surrounded the cleared floor. There were two other similar pillars, also in line with the slab, but instead they were to the outside, along the length of the cleared space. Each pillar had something on it. He couldn't tell if it was an inscription, or what, but there was something.  
  
'Lie down on the slab', spoke a voice in his head. Allen didn't hesitate, as he started to sit down on the slab, a thought struck him, 'why?' He stopped then and looked around. 'Where am I? And what is this place?'  
  
'All shall be revealed. This time is not for questions.' The voice he heard in his mind had a sense of familiarity. This place seemed familiar somehow. He had been here before. 'I must know why I come here in my sleep?' Allen felt dumbstruck. Did he just think that? When had he ever been here before?  
  
'All shall be revealed. Lie down, and relax.' The voice did not sound upset at the questions, only impatient. It had a parental feel about it. Why should that be significant, though Allen. But it didn't seem important. He lay back on the slab, and took a deep breath.  
  
A blue-green light glowed on the pillars to his right, his left, and the one he faced. He didn't need to turn his head to know that the one behind him was glowing as well. This all had the feeling of familiarity to it, like a book read and forgotten years later when you pick it up to read it again. His body was already tensing for that split-second burst of instantaneous pain that he knew was coming.  
  
The four points of light intersected in the air above him, creating a field of energy directly above the slab. The blue-green color of the field rippled and cascaded, so that it resembled a blend between rippling water, and that web-like look that static electricity gets when it's overexcited. 'This hasn't happened before,' that strange inner voice of his said. He knew it was a part of him, somehow; the part of him that remembered. The pain hadn't come this time, 'Why?'  
  
'All shall be revealed. Unparalleled potential can be yours, if you wish it.' The field had changed, subtly. The color was changing into a sort of electric purple. Unparalleled potential, Allen thought. 'But you once said that.' The other voice had stopped. What had this other voice said? Allen wanted to know. It didn't seem important right now, but the curiosity somehow blended into a newly born feeling of excitement and desire. Unparalleled potential, it said. Allen wanted to know. 'I have a choice. You are asking me if I want this gift of yours?"  
  
'Yes. If you agree, you will now all that you desire answered. If you decline, you will not remember any of this. You need only agree.' Some part of Allen was in awe. It was the most that this voice had ever said, or ever told him. The excitement built within him, and as if a bubble had popped, he could remember everything again. If I want it, it will be mine, Allen thought. There was no question that all was as the voice had said. 'Yes, I will take your offer. I want your gift." Allen thought that he had sounded like a spoiled brat. Instead of asking, he was demanding. But his acceptance stood.  
  
'This is good. All shall be revealed.'  
  
The pillars were still connected by the same energy field as before, and right below the first, a second series of lights began to glow. These were blue-green as before, but they had a different feel to them. The lower lights extended beams that converged on Allen, and engulfed him. He had half expected some sort of sensation as the energy engulfed him, but there was nothing, except for a feeling of weightlessness, as he suddenly realized he was being floated up to the electric purple colored field.  
  
He was brought up to just below the energy field, and for a brief second, his mind registered the fact that the second set of energy beams, which had brought him up to this height above the floor, had stopped glowing. He though he would fall, but he hadn't yet, and he somehow knew that he would not. The first energy field seemed to open up somehow, and then it surrounded him.  
  
'Brace yourself.' He heard the voice tell him. 'This will hurt.'  
  
His body tensed as a surge of energy swept through his body. An imperceptible pain froze his body.  
  
Allen jolted awake in bed. He looked around his room with a feeling of dislocation. Something had happened, he knew it, but he couldn't remember exactly what. He remembered.something about a dream. He shook his head, and looked at a digital alarm clock next to his bed. The face showed that it was seven minutes to six. A pre-dawn glowed began on the horizon.  
He started to sit up when his entire body sort of spasmed, and his entire body started to hurt with a pulsing throb. He lay bed, and took a deep breath. Why would his entire body hurt like that? Just need to sleep. He was too tired to wonder if he had thought it or not. He started to close his eyes, and errantly wished that he would feel better by the time he woke up again later on. The pain was already receding as he drifted back into REM.  
  
.....  
  
An alert went off, and woke Professor Charles Xavior in his bed. He recognized what it was, and pulled himself over and into his wheelchair before getting over to a computer display on the far wall of his room. It was directly linked to a computer in the deep recesses of his Institute. An Institute for the Gifted, or mutants as the world labeled them.  
Charles entered a code, and underwent a retinal scan to verify his identity before the computer accessed it's records. The computer was called Cerebro, and it was used to monitor mutant activity around the world. Both the activities of those already out in the open, and those who have not yet manifested their latent mutant powers. Whenever one did surface, the computer would alert him shortly after.  
"Let's see who we got," said the Professor, more to himself than anyone. A data file came up on the display. The subject in question was an 'Allen Tearance' of a quiet suburb in Altos Verdes, California. Not a large city, but not any small town, either. Nothing too definite on what his ability would be, but that wasn't a new thing either.  
The Professor reached out with his mind to see who was available. Logan was up and around, not unusual, but everyone else was still asleep. It was after all a Saturday. Charles was sure he could let this one go for a few hours, but newly emerging mutants weren't something to take lightly. He would have to be brought in, and soon. 


	2. Manifest Destiny

"The Mage" - Writer2Bpoet  
  
--"Manifest Destiny"-  
  
Author's Notes: I would really love it, if any and all people reading any of my work could R&R, just please, no flaming. Critique, yes. By all means give me the brutal truth, but do not come out and tell me "You suck". Cause seriously, that really does suck.  
  
Disclaimer: No, I do not yet in any way own or have any right what-so-ever to claim ownership of any of the characters, except those that I decide to bring in on my own (Allen, his friends, and what-not), they all belong to the corporations. But maybe I'll buy enough rights someday, when I am a brilliant and famous author in my own right, so that I can make some sort of series spin-offs that are all my own. Probably not, though, cause spin- offs suck after a while. Recap: do not own rights to X-Men Evolution, Star Trek, or any other series that may be mentioned.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
-Two hours after Cerebro's alert, Briefing Room, Xavier Institute-  
  
Professor Xavier waits until everyone is seated and quiet before speaking. "X-Men, earlier this morning, Cerebro alerted me to the appearance of another mutant. A 16-year old boy by the name of Allen Terance."  
Rogue, who was sitting near the back of the room, hadn't been paying too much attention until mention of the word "boy". She snickered. "What kind of a name is 'Allen Terance'?"  
Kurt couldn't help but grin at her remark. Appearances aside, he still considered Rogue to be a sister, even though she had not yet actually come out and admit it. Part of him could never really forgive her for destroying Mystique's statue (he still believed that his mother could have been saved), but he was stating to get over the hurt. "And vhat kind of a name iz 'Rogue'?"  
Rogue flashed him a warning glance, but subsided at some of the chuckles from around the table.  
Scott spoke next. "So where to this time, Professor?"  
"I was about to get to that," the Professor stated as he glanced over at Rogue and Kurt. He pressed a button on the table in front of him, and a holographic map was projected of the target site. "It's a medium sized city in California called Altos Verdes. I've been using Cerebro to try and keep track of the boy, but he seems to have fallen off the map again. The brief reading that Cerebro was able to get of the boy was, let's say, enigmatic. For the most part, I am not sure as to whether or not he is even aware of his powers yet, so that is why I want you to take this one slowly."  
Jean spoke up next, "Professor, I can understand the need for patience if the circumstances are as fragile as you say, but, what exactly do you mean by 'enigmatic'?"  
"I am glad you asked. With many of you, I always had an idea of what to expect. That is to say, Cerebro was always able to get a proper reading of your abilities. But a few mutants, one such case being Wanda, manifested abilities that couldn't be well identified at first. As it is, I never followed up on Wanda or Pietro, because I was well aware of their family heritage. It was a mistake that I shall regret. But I will not make that mistake again."  
The Professor looked around the room as if considering something. "I, myself was considering going, but there is further business here that I must look after. Cyclops, I would like you and Jean to lead this one. Take whomever you think would do best. Logan, I'll need you here to look after the school, and keep an eye on things. Kurt, I want to make some adjustments to your Holo-Inducer, and as you can't exactly go into public without drawing the wrong attention, you'll have to stay here as well. Storm, I'll need you, and a couple of the other students to take a message for me to the Moorlocks. It's time we brought them into closer ties with the school. Good luck to everyone. Dismissed." With that, the Professor wheeled out of the room.  
"Ah, man!" Kurt exclaimed. "I'm grounded!"  
"No, you aren't, Kurt," Kitty tried to console. "You're just.not allowed to leave the grounds."  
"Yup," Iceman nodded, "that's sounds like a grounding to me." Kitty shook her head, and scowled at him. "What?!"  
"Knock it off, you guys," said Cyclops, taking command. "Alright, we got a job to do. Bisurker, Magmara, you two will accompany Storm, and put on your best behavior, we don't want to scare away Spike and the Moorlocks." Scott looked around the rest of the room. He wanted experience on this assignment. "Okay then, with Kurt out of it for the time being-"  
Kurt shook his head at this and muttered what sounded like, "Vun-de- bagh" under his breathe, before Teleporting out of the room.  
"-that means Jean and I will be taking ShadowKat, Rogue, Iceman, and Jubilee. You guys feel up to it?"  
Jubilee threw her arms above her head and gave out a "Yes!" more out of excitement than an answer. While Iceman made an exclamation about, "Sunny California, here I come." The other three or so younger students all gave loud sighs, and moans, as they'd be spending the day doing whatever.  
"Fine, now that that's settled with, we've got to suit up, and prep the-"  
"Scott," interrupted Jean. "I don't mean to burst your bubble, but aren't we going out there to introduce ourselves? Not start a war?"  
"Oh, point taken," Scott shrugged, "sorry, force of habit. In that case, all selected team members get ready and meet down in the Hanger in twenty minutes."  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
-Altos Verdes, about the same time as the briefing-  
  
Allen unlocked the front door, and stepped into the house with some plastic bags in hand. He closed the door, put his keys on the hook in the hallway, and entered the living room to sort through the mix-matched items that he had gotten at the store. He started to put aside the couple of notebooks, and a package of assorted pens, but set the rest of the two bags aside, and, sitting down, turned on the television.  
"-destruction left in the wakes of several tornadoes is estimated to only be in the tens of thousands. There are no serious injuries reported, and-"  
Allen had flipped to another channel before the mention of any casualties, but turns in the weather were not really of interest right now. Neither were any cartoons, as he flipped past another channel. Then he hit another news broadcast.  
"In other news, as more reports of mutants flood into Washington today, concerns surrounding the 'Mutant Phenomena' are raised, and many government officials are still at a loss as to what they can do about it."  
The report than switched to a feed of an interview with some unrecognized Congressman: "And Congressman, what do you say about the strange 'Mutant Phenomena'?" The Congressman looks over at the camera and reporter with a very calm level look. "Well, to this new situation that our nation faces, I can only say that as long these 'mutants' are law- biding citizens, there should be no problem concerning any sort of co- existence." The reporter than tried to bring up questions concerning other violent encounters with mutants, but by that time Allen had lost interest, and had changed the channel again, mumbling about "witch hunts".  
He rubbed at his temple again. His head had been throbbing since he had woken a couple of hours before. The events of the night just seemed like some blur. The only concern he had right now was getting rid of this headache. He had to get to the kitchen; that was where he'd find the medicine cabinet, and some aspirin.  
Looking up, Allen found himself standing in the middle of the kitchen. He didn't even remember walking into the room. He shook his head. He had suddenly felt a bit dizzy. He got into the cabinet and started rummaging around. He couldn't find the bottle of aspirin, and wondered when the last time anyone had used any. He couldn't think straight, and not for the first time in the last week, wondered why he didn't have a hypospray, like they do on Star Trek. With exception to the fact, that it would be a different timeframe, not to mention it all being a work of fiction.  
His hand gripped on something cylindrical, and he only caught a glimpse of what looked like the type of medical hypospray that he had seen so many times on the ST shows, right before he dropped it. The device hit the floor, and rolled a few inches before it stopped, and a moment later disappeared.  
Allen shook his head. 'This cannot be happening. It is impossible.' He decided to for go the aspirin, and thought that laying down would be better. He went back to the living room, and sat down again. He was definitely feeling tired enough to fall asleep.  
  
Allen startled awake as he heard the doorbell ring a second time. He had fallen asleep in the chair, and not even realized it. He still felt drowsy, but nothing that answering the door would make difficult. He walked into the entry hall, as he heard some people talking quietly on the porch. He distinctly heard three voices. One of the girls' voices, definitely young, and on just this side of being too high-pitched was talking.  
"-even think that he's still here. Was the Professor sure?"  
She was answered by a fairly deep voice, a guy, who sounded like he was used to being in charge. "Well, the worst that can happen is that he isn't even here, and we just wait someplace in town for him to resurface. In any case, the Professor said that this was the last place that this kid's-"  
Allen had decided to open the door by now, and had cut off the speaker. He hesitated when he opened the door, remembering that he was supposed to look through the peephole, but after a second of looking at whom the speaker was finally asked, slowly, "Hello, can I help you?"  
The guy who had been speaking was tall, with dark hair, a very set face, and he was wearing.red-tinted sunglasses. The guy was also wearing a light green sweatshirt. Allen couldn't help pity the guy. He was definitely wearing the wrong type of clothing for September in Southern California. The girl who answered him though, also tall, but with reddish hair, had a smooth well rounded voice. The both of them were older than Allen, they carried themselves like Seniors.  
"Allen Terance? Is he here?"  
Allen answered almost hesitantly. "Yeah, that's me. Umm, look if you're here to sell something, I do not believe that we are interested." Allen hated being rude, and they seemed like good people, but he directed them to the 'No Solicitors' sign next to the door. "'No Solicitors.'" He closed the door before they could get another word in. Allen had just realized that his headache was gone. A slight smile, before he started to wonder what was in the newspaper.  
There was a knock at the door, though, before he took another step. He looked back at the door.  
  
Scott had been about to say something: an introduction, a little something about mutants needing to stick together, something. Instead, all he could think was: Did this kid just close the door on us? He glanced over at Jean. She was already giving him the 'did that just happen' look.  
Kitty broke the silence. "Ahh, I don't think that was a very good omen."  
Jean just shrugged a bit. "Do you think we should try again?"  
Scott nodded, and knocked on the door for the second time. This time, they couldn't mess up. This kid had better be worth it. 


	3. Starnger Than Fiction

"The Mage" Writer2Bpoet -------------------------------------------------------  
  
"Stranger Than Fiction"  
  
Disclaimer: I keep wondering if I must post this with every chapter, but what the heck. No, I own none of the original characters of this X-men series, but I will try and keep them true to themselves, no worries. Also, if I mention or briefly insert bits from various shows, nothing meant, just using some artistic licensing. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The knock on the door seemed to echo into the rest of the house, and all Allen could do what stand there. 'They couldn't possibly.', he suddenly wondered why any solicitors would be this persistent. He was immediately suspicious, but decided to look through the peephole this time. He, very quietly, went back to the door, and opened the miniature door that was hidden in front behind the knocker. It was the same three, alright, but Allen noticed something about them. They weren't like the other kids that came by periodically trying to sell things, something about them just didn't add up. 'What's the worst that can happen?'  
He opened the door, again, and looked out at the three teenagers on the doorstep, looking back at him. The tall guy was the first to speak.  
"Okay, before you close the door on us again, just let me tell you that we are not trying to sell you anything." He got a look from the red- head, and he cleared his throat, "Well, we sort of are, but."  
The young valleygirl piped up next, "What Scott is trying to say, I think, is that we are actually here to help you."  
Allen was still a bit suspicious. "Help me with what? A better question is that if you are not here to sell me stuff, what are you here for, exactly?"  
The redhead spoke again. "Can we come in for this? It might take some explanation."  
Allen hesitated. He knew nothing of these people, or who they were, nothing. Why would he invite them in? But something about the dream from the night before flashed into his head: a desire to know. "Okay, but can you just answer me one thing?"  
"What do you want to know?" Scott asked.  
"Before you tell me your names, tell me why you came here?"  
Scott looked at the red-head, and they exchanged glances with the other girl. There seemed to be some sort of agreement. "Mind if I ask you a question first?"  
Allen smiled sarcastically, "Why not?"  
"How do you feel about.mutants?"  
The question stunned him. It wasn't exactly something that was thrown at him everyday. Something dawned on him. His smile became a sort of grin. "Somehow, I thought you'd look a bit different."  
The redhead smiled. "Most people do. But this is the part where things get a bit more serious. My name is Jean, this is Scott, and Kitty." She gestured to each of her companions in turn.  
Allen nodded, and opened the door for them to come in. "Is that short for Katie, or Catherine?" Kitty seemed taken aback for a moment.  
"Umm, Katherine, actually, but I don't like my name. Like it's totally too formal."  
When everyone was finally seated in the living room, the conversation took a new turn. Jean continued speaking, although it seemed that Scott usually took the lead, for some reason. "We, and a number of others like us are a part of the Xavior Institute for Gifted Youngsters-"  
"I think I heard about that place in the news once, it's a school, sort of, for mutants, right?"  
"Yeah, that's right."  
"So, why is it that I'm getting a feeling like this is about to get all 'Twilight Zone'-ish?"  
Kitty piped in so as not to create too much of a silence. "Well, the truth of the matter is that whenever a new mutant manifests powers, Professor Xavier sends out groups of students to sort of.offer whatever support that can be offered, and many times that includes an offer of welcome to join us at the School."  
Allen's eyes lit up for a moment, before he spoke again. "Somehow, I knew I wasn't going to like what today's events would bring." He paused, before rubbing his temple with his hand. "God, you guys aren't joking are you?" He looked around at each of them. "So, if you really are serious- but that would mean that.and I am.whoa!" He dropped his head into his hands, and started shaking.  
Kitty, at first, got a panicked look on her face, "Is he.?"  
Allen looked up after a minute; he was laughing. "Sorry," he said still grinning, "it's sort of a nervous reaction, but.you can't help but find the strange bit of humor in it. It's ironic really, you get used to life as a teenager, and just when you think life is done with you, you are given a completely different set of rules." Allen's face changed again, the more it sank in, the less funny it became. Jean, glancing over at Kitty (who blushed at the semi-tactless style she used), tried to offer some support. "It might be better if we could get into contact with your parents."  
"Yeah, well, they're both sort of at work right now. And you shouldn't blame her, she did try, and I'd rather have heard what she said instead of someone being blunt." Jean looked taken aback for a moment. "No, no special power, I think, I can just kind of read people sometimes." There was another pause. "I don't mean to be blunt or anything, myself, but.what sort of manifestations are we talking about?"  
Jean continued with a sort of smile. "I was wondering when this part was coming up. Well, for every individual it is different. I have a blend of Telepathy, and Telekinesis, and-"  
"So that's means that you're a mentalist of a sort, then, right? Mind reading, and moving things, and those sort of things."  
"That's right. Kitty, here can phase through solid objects-" she stopped this time when she saw the unreal look on Allen's face. "Maybe we should show you. That way you won't think of us or yourself as crazy." Jean looked over onto the mantel above the living room's fireplace, and concentrated. A small stone carving lifted off the mantel, and floated into the middle of the room, before coming over and landing softly into her lap. She set it onto the coffee table by hand.  
Allen started to shake his head, as if he couldn't quite understand what had just happened. Kitty smirked for a moment; she had obviously been waiting for this. She reached over to the coffee table, and her hand and part of her arm went straight through. She smiled at Allen, "It only sort of tingles."  
"Did I just see what I thought I saw? Cause I just thought that I.that she." Allen looked from Kitty and the table, to Jean, and back again. But he saw the same thing in both faces: acknowledgement.  
Allen swallowed before trying to say anything. "What happens when if you aren't.Phasing when you pass through something? Do you get stuck?"  
It was apparently the wrong thing to say. Kitty shuddered for a moment with a strange look on her face. "I don't know. That's.that's never happened before."  
Allen grimaced, "Sorry. I.I sometimes say things without thinking first."  
"No prob." Kitty smirked again.  
"What about you, Scott, what's your.ability?" He was going to have said something else, but stopped himself.  
Scott only smiled slightly. "Let's just say that if I took off these glasses, and kept my eyes open, you'd either be buying a new wall, or looking into having a skylight put in."  
Jean shook her head. "Scott's eyes emit a destructive optical blast. That's why he has to where those special glasses."  
Allen grimaced and then grinned after a moment of thought. "No offence, but I hope that I don't start doing that."  
"Don't worry, if your mutation was anything like that, you'd already have to wear a biohazard sign or something. In any case, I am sure that the Professor can take care of convincing your parents. All we need is a 'yes' from you, and we can start getting things ready."  
Allen shook his head. "Doesn't look like I have many options. Hey, wait! You said that I had manifested abilities by now.but, I don't remember doing anything strange."  
Jean and Scott exchanged looks. Kitty, apparently left out of the loop, spoke up, "Umm, what does this mean? You don't think the address was wrong do you?" She grimaced again.  
"I don't think so," Jean began, "Cerebro has always been very accurate before, there is nothing to suggest that there is anything wrong, besides-"  
Allen cleared his throat. "Don't mean to interrupt, or anything, but what's Cerebro?"  
Kitty smiled at Jean and Scott. You guys handle the explanations; I'm going to go check on Rogue and Iceman. And see about calling the Professor."  
"Sure," Scott nodded. "So, I take it, then that this is a 'yes'?"  
Allen only hesitated a moment, before answering. "Sure. If what you say is true, then I can use all the help I can get. But just one thing," this stopped Kitty from her little celebration for a moment, "You've got to be the ones to explain all this to my parents."  
  
About an hour later, after some more questions, some details, and a few phone calls, Allen was seeing the X-Men to the door. "I've got to tell you, though, this is all pretty strange. I mean, I know my friends will have trouble accepting this, and I know my parents are about ready to blow their tops, but I don't even think that I can accept this yet.  
"I mean, heck, I don't even know what my." he looked around at the neighbors' houses', "what my special ability is, yet."  
Scott nodded, "We're just going to have to figure that out, later. But if anything does happen, even if it's as simple as something that just can't be immediately explained, write it down, or something. It could provide some clues. Also, if you or any member of your family has any questions, you have our number, don't hesitate to call."  
Allen nodded, "This Bayville, is it an okay place? I mean, it's not too far off is it?"  
"It isn't that different from around here, actually. Smaller town, yeah, but it still has it's perks." Jean smiled, again.  
Allen shook his head, "Have any of you ever had those days where nothing seems to make sense?"  
Jean only nodded understandingly, "I know what you mean, but more times than often, it is the truth that is stranger then fiction." 


	4. Lifestyle Changes

"The Mage" Writer2Bpoet  
  
-------------------------------------------- "Lifestyle Adjustments"  
  
Sorry about the huge lag, everyone. I have been so, swamped at school, and distracted by the fires. Though I can't complain really, everything these days are keeping me on my toes.  
  
Disclaimer: No, don't own any of the primary characters, it would be cool (have rights to our very own cartoon/show), but not yet in this lifetime. So, I'll have to digress. I only have exclusive rights to my own characters (fanfictions are cool that way).  
  
Author's Notes: Yes, I know, no 'questions per-say have been raised yet as to the origins of Allen's abilities, but all clarities, and puzzlements shall be addressed in this chapter. In the mean time, it would be a GREAT assist if I had feedback. Mi gente, I need you to help me help you. If you like it, tell me. If you mistrust certain details, tell me. If you have any suggestions (in the words of my Playwriting teacher: "feeling the need to 'grope' another person's story"[aka - giving ideas, and suggesting add-ins], which I am not disinclined to accept, I will even give you special mention.) Also, on a more general note: does anyone know where Bayville is exactly, or rather where it is supposed to be, anyway? On another note, I am glad that the Apocalypse saga is finally over with, as this is supposed to take place just afterward. I will make the appropriate corrections. -------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
-Terance Residence, Altos Verdes, Later the same day (evening)-  
  
Warren Terance walked in the front door, and leafed through the bills and junk mail. But he hardly saw any of it. His mind was still trying to process what he had been told in a rather strange phone conversation from earlier that afternoon. A call he had received from an 'Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters'. He still couldn't believe that one of his children had developed a.had at some point become a.a mutant.  
He shook his head as he reminded himself what Mr. Xavier had said: "The development, and nurturing of these special abilities is not a curse, despite what popular media would lead the general public to understand. These new talents are simply adding to what talents the youngster already possessed. In fact, in learning to control these new abilities, the individual learns responsibility, accountability, and commitment."  
'Well, it all sounded well, and good', thought Warren, 'but what follows after this Institute? How normal a life can one have?' He had to wonder, and worry, as a parent. But the decision, he had already agreed with his wife, was up to Allen. It was his future, after all.  
Warren was skimming through the newspaper headlines when Allen came down the stairs. "Hey dad, anything interesting happen today?" Warren Terance gave his son a dry look.  
"Well, I hear that you did. Have an eye-opening visit from some certain people did we?" He made it sound very commonplace, but he noticed that Allen had gone very silent.  
Allen shrugged. "It was a unique experience, I suppose," Allen swallowed unconsciously.  
"Yes, well, it's not everyday that you are handed such news." Warren had to pause himself for a moment. Allen sat down in one of the chairs. "Do you have any idea what.?" He didn't need to finish the question, Allen was already shaking his head.  
"I'm starting to wonder if this isn't someone's really bad joke, or like a nightmare, or something."  
Warren winced slightly. He had been bugging his son about dropping such phrases, and he thought he had been successful, but apparently not. He was once an editor of both his grammar school and high school newspapers, and so he was very particular about phrasing. His son, obviously, wasn't as particular.  
Neither one of them knew what to say next. Allen had just summed it up for them: was it real, or was it not? Warren started flipping through the newspaper again, looking for the crossword, it helped him to gather his thoughts. Allen started to fiddle with his watch.  
  
Allen was lost in his own thoughts. He had that strange twisting sensation in the pit of his stomach. It always happened when he was dreading something; in this case, the repercussions of the truth. On one hand, he was a mutant, and would be awarded all of the side-effects, good and bad. On the other, he and his family were the butts of someone's really bad joke, and any minute they would be surprised by one of those hidden camera shows.  
He absent-mindedly began twisting his watch on his wrist. Being a sci-fi person, he couldn't help but think how much cooler his watch would be with some serious tech upgrades. He started to wonder what a watch might look like in terms of tech from Star Trek, say sometime in the 24th Century. That was when he started to notice the strange numbing sensation that was traveling down his left arm, down from the shoulder. It was at his elbow, and as he turned his arm to look at it, he noticed several suspicious looking bumps migrating down towards his wrist.  
In the wake of these bumps, his arm was growing noticeably pale, and little silver trails were starting to form. They looked sort of like those lines you'd see on a microchip really up-close. But the seemed to follow a certain pattern, like blood vein patterns. Allen eyes widened slightly as he realized what was going on: he arm was being Borg-ified by nanoprobes. The migrating bumps had reached his hand, the veins and blood vessels taking on a silverfish look. And right below his wrist, where the watch sat, the skin began to tingle, almost itch, but he already knew what was coming, he had been expecting it: assimilation tubules erupted from his skin and sank into his watch.  
Allen looked up to see what his father was doing. Warren was starting into the crossword, oblivious to what was transpiring in front of him. Allen looked back down at his watch. The tubules were already retracting, and the tingling in his arm was receding, but his watch was already beginning to change.  
  
The front door opened, and Miranda Terance, wife of Warren Terance and mother of Allen, walked in. She had left the office early, but felt justified, considering the unexpected news that she had been informed of earlier that same day. She set her purse down in the living room, and entered the dining room. Warren and Allen were already there. Allen looked a bit surprised, and he glanced down at his arm for some reason, and then made an even stranger look. Warren was concentrating on the crossword, but looked up to great her as she entered.  
"Evening, dear," he tried to sound carefree, but it sounded a bit forced.  
"Allen," Miranda stepped over and touched her son's forehead, "are you alright? You look a bit tense about something." She realized how stupid she sounded; of course what they had been informed of earlier would be upsetting. Miranda was already having a geneticist she knew make some quiet investigations into whether it was she or warren who gave Allen this 'X-gene' that Mr. Xavier had told her about earlier that afternoon.  
Allen was still looking at his watch as if disappointed about something. "No, it is nothing. I was just.thinking about.something." He sounded tired. Miranda made a mental note to have him lay down later. He must still be in a sort of shock from the news.  
Miranda, herself couldn't really make sense of it, yet. Her son looked so normal, how could he be some sort of monster? She shook her head absently as she entered the kitchen to get dinner ready. Not monster, that was the media talking to her. Her son was simply talented, much differently than many others. She lost herself in the routine of cooking, it always helped her organize her thoughts.  
She was still trying to figure out how to tell Melissa, Allen's older sister. She had moved out on her own a year earlier, and Miranda already knew that she would not take this well. And that wasn't even taking into account the rest of the family. She grimaced as she started to get the meatloaf ready.  
  
Allen excused himself from the dinner table early that evening so that he could get up to his room. His mother told him he should go lie down, she said he looked pale. Allen had almost laughed. She had no idea. How could she? He glanced at his watch. For the most part it looked normal, but he could notice small details that were different, such as the series of changing codons on the upper-right margin. He pressed one of the buttons along the outside of the watch that was used to switch Function Modes. There were several different modes than before, and a couple of new ones.  
One of the new ones looked like it was taking a series of scans of the local area. He could see a small display of some sort. He wondered if there wasn't a way to enlarge it. He tapped the display twice, and the digital face of the watch changed slightly, and a Holographic Multi- Dimensional display blinked into existence over his watch. He looked at the various readouts. Background radiation levels, sonic/noise measurements, temperatures, bio-sign displays, and in one corner there was a series of Borg codons. They seemed to be changing in a significant pattern. Sort of like a readout of a another sort, but he couldn't yet figure out what it was saying. It was so real.  
He waved his hand, slowly, through the image display, and the Holo- screen was blurred, and interrupted, but returned to normal after he removed his hand. He tapped his watch face again, and the screen turned off. Yeah, it was definitely different. He was surprised by how calm and ordered his thoughts were.  
"I know I should be on the verge of a mental breakdown, but why aren't I? God," he brushed his hand through his hair, "I'm even talking to myself. This still doesn't tell me what my ability is." He looked down at his watch. "I wonder if this thing takes verbal commands." He looked over at his bedroom door, and closed it, just in case.  
"Computer," he said turning back into his room. The watch beeped at him. This just might work. "Computer, display biogenetic diagnostic of myself." The watch beeped at him again, and another holo-display popped into existence. It showed several segments of readings. But Allen couldn't quite understand all of it.  
"Computer, isolate and display X-gene segment of DNA scans." The screen responded, and magnified a particular cross-section of Allen's holographically projected DNA. After a moments consideration, Allen took his watch off, and placed it on his dresser, facing him. The display deactivated, readjusted, and then redisplayed the last data requested. Too cool.  
"Based upon current genetic readings, what is the projected effect of X-gene mutation?"  
"Current genetic data is inconclusive. No other genetic patterns are available for examination."  
"Damn, knew it was too easy."  
"Please restate last command."  
Allen shook his head. "Computer, deactivate display, and go to Idle Mode."  
The system did as was ordered, and the watch sat as normally as before. "This is too cool, but what does it mean?" As a second thought, Allen refocused his attention on the watch. "Computer, respond to my vocal patterns, only." "Affirmative. Vocal recognition sequence, activated." Allen nodded. At least he was starting to get the hang of it. Sort of. He yawned, and realized how tired he was. He looked at the clock on the wall, and saw that it was just before nine at night. A bit early, but maybe he could approach this thing with a better angle in the morning.  
  
The next day came and went, with little comment. Allen had decided to keep his watch a secret for now. On a different note he had been experimenting with a few things, and had managed to activate the nanoprobes again, and had injected some into his bedroom wall. His room was still undergoing changes. But as he realized that the nanoprobes were starting to spread to other parts of his house, he activated the computer that had formed in a corner of his room, and commanded it to restrict itself to the interior of his room. One thing he could be thankful for, was that these nanites were his, and not completely Borg, otherwise he had just doomed the world. He had started to think that his abilities were tech related until a couple days later, just one day before he was to move to the Institute. He was watching an episode of Charmed that morning, like he usually did, when he heard something outside in front of his house. He peaked through the living room curtains and saw one of the cats being cornered by one of the larger neighborhood strays. Allen tried to scare it away with a shooing motion, but as at that moment he was thinking about Charmed, and arm motion became a Throwback, that sent the stray flying several feet through the air where it landed on the walkway, on it's feet, and completely confused. Allen only looked at his hand, the right one this time, and wondered what would have happened if he had tried to blow the cat up. He got rid of that thought. It was like his mind had finally connected on some level: his powers were thought driven, sort of. Allen suddenly started to get a bit worried. He had too many thoughts to keep track of sometimes.suppose he wanted to wish someone was dead because they pissed him off, could he control it? He shuddered involuntarily. He looked back in time to see some demon throw a Lightening Orb at one of the Sisters. He wondered.a burst of energy seemed to funnel around his right hand, and in his palm hovered a Orb of Lightening Energy. He smiled as he thought of something. He concentrated on what he had designed for the look of the Mage, his character, and when he opened his eyes, he felt taller. He went into the entry hall, and looked in a mirror that hung on the wall. He saw the Dark Mage staring back at him. Yes, this could have potential. "Indeed, much potential." The Mage's voice spoke in place of Allen's. 


End file.
